


Highly Collectible

by abstractconcept



Series: Toys [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, M/M, silliness, snarry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abstractconcept/pseuds/abstractconcept
Summary: Harry holds Lucius Malfoy hostage. How far will Severus go to complete the whole set?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: A follow up to “Action Figures” for Umbrus.

“Don’t go in there,” Snape heard Draco warn. “He’s suffering from one of his flare ups of irritability.”

Snape glared as though he could bore holes in the door. The snot made it sound as though Severus had been diagnosed with some minor affliction, like gout.

The door opened anyway, and Snape knew who would be on the other side—Potter. Only one man would dare to enter his office under such circumstances—Potter. Always Potter. “Snape,” the boy began, but Severus was already out of his seat and striding past, forcing the boy to squeeze up and hold his breath, flattened against the doorframe as Snape stormed by.

“I haven’t the vaguest notion why you’d grace our humble little copy room with your glorious presence,” he sneered, “but I’m afraid it’s all in vain as I have a luncheon date.”

“A date?” Potter repeated blankly. “With who?”

“Whom, and I’m dining with Lucius Malfoy. I’m sure you can make your own copies,” Snape said haughtily, and swanned out.

He could feel Potter staring at him in consternation as he left.

OoOoOoOoO

 

“The latest in your collection came while you were at lunch,” Draco announced on Snape’s return.

Snape’s eyes lit up. “Really? The figure of your father with miniature cane and realistic riding-crop arm-action?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I _so_ don’t want to hear about your abnormal little hobby. Particularly if my father happens to be involved.” All the same, he followed Snape to his office. “Potter only left a little while ago. I don’t know what he was doing, but he was in there for _ages._ ”

Feeling an uncomfortable suspicion well up, Snape yanked open the door.

As he suspected, there was shredded manila paper with his name on it. There were magical packing bubbles floating above his desk. And there—on the floor! _An open box!_

Snape clutched his chest. “GAH! NRFB!”

“What? What are you gibbering about?”

“NRFB, _NRFB!_ ” Snape howled, tearing at his hair.

“What the bloody hell does that mean? Have you had a debilitating stroke? If you have, does that mean I inherit your office?” Draco asked hopefully.

“NRFB, NRFB, NRFB . . .” Snape chanted sadly. “Never removed from box! That loathsome, evil, vile, malevolent spawn of Satan and a Fox News Executive! _POTTER OPENED IT!_ ”

Draco sighed.

“Where’s the rest of it? _What did he do with it?_ ” Snape scrambled about, tearing his office apart.

Draco cleared his throat. “Hey, look at this,” he said.

Snape took the shred of manila away. Next to Snape’s name and address, Potter’s chicken-scratch handwriting threatened, _Be at Grimmauld Place at midnight, or the action figure GETS IT!_

Snape let out an unmanly shriek and set fire to the note.

“Great gonads of _Christ,_ ” Draco complained. “Will you take a breath? I can’t believe you’re so nattered over it.”

Snape grabbed Draco by the front of his robes and shook him. “Don’t you see, boy? Limited edition! I almost had _the complete set!_ Do you know what a complete set of post-war action figures is _worth?_ As much as _you are!_ ” Snape howled.

Draco looked stunned. “Even counting my overseas investments?” he queried.

“Yes!”

“And my under-the-table stocks?”

“Yes!”

“You’ll have to get it back, then,” Draco advised.

“I KNOW THAT!” Snape looked momentarily distressed, a line appearing between his brows. “But how?”

Draco looked grim. “Any way you can,” he said in a steely voice.

“You don’t mean I should—”

“Exactly.”

OoOoOoOoO

 

Snape Apparated to the front stoop of Grimmauld Place just as the clock ticked over to midnight. Would Potter be there? Would he keep his word? Would he return the action figure? Perhaps it wasn’t worth it. Perhaps Snape should just go and try e-bay . . . just as he was about to turn and leave, he saw, in the murky darkness, something hanging from the handle to the front door.

He peered closely, feeling his insides freeze. _Lucius’ riding crop._ It dangled there obscenely, daring Snape to come in and take his toys—his _action figure—_ away from that little bully, Potter.

Feeling his resolve harden, Snape snatched up the bit of leather and slammed open the door. “WHERE ARE YOU, YOU THEIVING WRETCH?” he demanded.

Potter reclined on the couch, looking at him coldly. “Took you long enough. So it worked, did it? I wondered what I’d have to do to get your attention. If this didn’t work I was going to threaten you with a nose job. I guess it wouldn’t be much of a threat though, would it?”

Snape held out his hand. “Give it back,” he said tightly.

“Nuh-uh.”

“ _Why not?_ ”

Potter looked sly. “Share a drink with me first,” he said. He pointed to a martini glass on the table. Snape picked it up and glanced at it.

He began to hyperventilate. Lucius’ cane was spearing an olive. “My god, have you no decency?” he whispered, yanking the cane out and blowing on it, hoping the alcohol wouldn’t warp it.

Potter looked extremely annoyed. “It’s just a _doll,_ Snape,” he snapped.

Snape turned purple and gaped at the brat. “Heinous—hideous—heartless—” he gasped.

“You’ve been avoiding me since the _end of the war,_ ” Potter said. “My owls come back with notes unread. I stop by your office, and you’re too busy with work. I stop by your house, and you don’t open the door. Desperate times call for desperate measures. You get your ickle toy back when I get what I want.”

“And what would _that_ be?” Snape asked coldly.

Potter blushed.

“What have you done with Lucius?” Snape demanded.

Harry leapt to his feet. “Why? Why do you care so much about Lucius?” he retorted hotly. “What do you want with the stupid thing, anyway? Going to braid its hair? Play with its cane? Stick its wand up its—”

“I was going to SELL IT FOR _PROFIT!_ ” Snape screeched.

Potter blinked. “Oh.” He sat back down.

“What do you want in return for the figure?” Snape asked as calmly as he could manage.

“Um . . .”

“I am prepared to offer sexual favors in return for my limited edition Lucius Malfoy with riding-crop arm-action,” Snape said grudgingly.

“Really.”

“Spread your legs.”

Afterward, Snape sat beside the boy, gulping his martini to mask the fact that Potter actually tasted quite nice—rather fruity, in fact. Not much of a shock, really. “Return my figure now, Mr. Potter,” he instructed.

“Um,” Harry hedged.

Snape turned on him like a bird of prey about to do in a rabbit. “ _What did you do to my action figure?_ ”

“I’m _sorry!_ ” Harry moaned. He pointed at the fireplace, and Snape saw a tiny arm, its plastic only partly melted.

“My god,” the man gasped. “You _never!_ What kind of monster would _do_ that to a limited edition?”

Harry hunched over and frowned ferociously. “You liked it _better_ than me,” he muttered petulantly.

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s the riding crop, isn’t it? _I_ can work a riding crop too, you know!”

“What the devil did you _do_?”

“Ripped out its arms and melted its legs and gave it a Dorothy Hamill haircut,” Harry replied, lower lip sticking out.

Snape clapped a hand over his mouth to smother the blurt of laughter. “I see. You were jealous of a doll?”

“Thought it was an _action figure,_ ” Harry retorted.

“There went my retirement fund,” Snape sighed sadly.

Harry shifted. “I could replace it,” he offered. “I mean, if you’re just going to sell it and not sleep with it or anything.”

“Why in heaven’s name would I sleep with a toy?” Snape said. “Scratch that,” he corrected dryly. “Anyway, the entire thing is less than five inches long. Hardly satisfying.”

“Bet it’s just like the real Lucius,” they said in unison, then smiled at each other. “You mean you don’t know?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Snape replied, looking amused. “Besides, you most certainly can replace it.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes,” Snape said smugly. “One limited edition Harry Potter with windswept Quidditch-hair—and amazing blow-job action,” he suggested.

Harry snuggled up to him with a grin. “Highly collectible,” he agreed.


End file.
